The Power Of A Single Note: The Poetic Imagination Of Yunchan Lim

by Brooks Riley

Richard Wagner’s mammoth Ring of the Nibelung cycle begins with a single note—not a chord, or series of notes, or leitmotif—but an extended E flat so deep it could be mistaken for noise, or the rumblings of Earth giving birth to tragedy. Hours later, this Ur sound, produced by eight contrabassi over four measures, will hardly be remembered after so many other sounds have competed for the listener’s attention. But the effect lingers on, deep in the psyche.

Someone else who understands the power of a single note is pianist Yunchan Lim, winner of the 2022 Van Cliburn competition at age 18, who electrified the classical music community with his performances of Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 3 and Liszt’s Transcendental Études and has since sold out concerts around the world. His reputation for virtuoso barrages of perfect notes at dizzying speeds belies a deep engagement in the sound he can extract from the piano with a single note—a process he demonstrated in an interview for Korean television last May.

‘In my mind, there’s always a feeling of what I think is the truly perfect sound. That sound exists. When the sound in my mind perfectly matches the sound in reality, at that moment, I feel my heart moving.’

As a percussive instrument, the piano is not very malleable. The tone of a single note occurs far from the finger that hits a key to activate a hammer to hit a string. Variety of tone depends on the force with which the finger has hit the key, or where on the key the finger has hit, as well as the use of pedals to amplify and elongate the sound or to mute it. The piano has no vibrato, for which one can be grateful, considering how many other instruments depend on it.

‘. . .when I press the G-sharp key, if it strikes my heart, then I move on to the next one. . .If my heart doesn’t feel it when moving to the A-sharp key, I keep doing it. . . . if the A-sharp key strikes my heart, then I practice connecting the first and second notes, and if that connection strikes my heart, then I move on to the third note.’

This may be one reason why his practice sessions are so long, often late into the night, or why he once spent hours on two measures of a Schubert Sonata. For Lim, technical brilliance is a given. What’s important to him are tone, color, rubato, feeling, poetry, poignancy, interpretation—even if he is wary of sentimentality or too much emotion. Read more »

Thursday, October 24, 2024

Tone Deaf: Turning to Music When no one will Listen

by Mark Harvey

Johannes Brahms

Most people don’t want to hear your sob stories, even if they pretend to be caring listeners. Even a good friend listening to your personal version of Orpheus and Eurydice—and making all the right noises—is probably focused on whether to put snow tires on their car Thursday or Friday.

Some of us turn to music to ease our mortal wounds and it’s a bit of a mystery as to why sad music is actually helpful. I turn to either classical or country music when I need to feel better about a loss or when things just won’t go my way. There is a vast distance between the ultra-cultured notes of, say, the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra and the decidedly baseborn lyrics of the country songsters I like. But lo and behold, each can have its healing powers, and a little of each might be the key to a good diet.

You can hear the grand wounds and the bending of the Weltgeist in classical music and it often involves losing a village or watching Napoleon fail at taking Russia. The great composers endeavor to capture tidal movements and tidal emotions. They have a whole orchestra with bizarre instruments such as glockenspiels and contrabassoons, to accompany the more common violins and pianos. To play in a great orchestra takes merely 15 years of daily practice from the age of four along with some otherworldly talent. So if you wake up feeling sad about the fall of democracy in Europe, by all means, reach for your Schubert or your Brahms. That’s what it takes to handle the bigger themes.

Country music is less ambitious and more concerned with things like, “Whose bed have your boots been under? And whose heart did you steal I wonder?”. But when you’re in the throes of a tawdry breakup, the clever, brassy lyrics of a Shania Twain or a Jamie Richards might offer the fast, powerful relief you need and can’t get from the refined classical music.

Good country music has the boomy-bassy-twangy sound made by simple instruments such as slide guitars, fiddles, and banjos. It can be plaintive and crooning but part of what makes it successful are clever, ironic lyrics. Read more »